


reflections

by Areiton



Series: The Left Hand [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, POV Peter Hale, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 08:57:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15457767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: Derek thinks the key to Scott’s cooperation is the Argent girl, the little doe eyed pale thing that will shatter under the slightest pressure, the girl Christopher wraps in layers in protection and tucks away like he can protect her from the world she was born to.But Peter--Peter watches.





	reflections

**Author's Note:**

> This originally was on Tumblr, and I forgot to move it here. So. If you follow me there this might be old hat. <3

The night echoes around them, and he watches. 

Derek thinks the key to Scott’s cooperation is the Argent girl, the little doe eyed pale thing that will shatter under the slightest pressure, the girl Christopher wraps in layers in protection and tucks away like he can protect her from the world she was born to. 

But Peter--Peter watches. 

He was second born, and knew from an early age what that meant--Talia would be Alpha, and he would be her left hand, the one who lived in shadows and did everything she couldn’t. 

An Alpha and her second were only as strong as the Left who did the dirty work.  

And he watched, while his new beta stumbled through his change, watched as  _ Stiles _ figured out everything that Scott was too blind or stubborn to see. 

Stiles was a fascinating human boy, snark and sass and ruthless brilliance packaged so prettily it made Peter’s blood pound. He was everything Scott had failed to be, and Peter  _ wanted _ him. 

But it wasn't just how pretty he was. 

It was the sharp scent of defiance on the boy when he trapped him. It was the selfless way he clung to Derek’s side. It was how he acted, already, as Scott's Left, doing the necessary work and research, cleaning up messes Scott left. Restraining him, and protecting what Scott cared about. 

He was the same way with his father. Peter didn't need much time and even less digging to realize the Sheriff who everyone loved so dearly was an absent, overworked father held together by a son who had stopped being a child even before his mother died. 

He stares now, Stiles’ heartbeat the only noise in the empty dark garage, at this beautiful, terrified boy and for just a moment he sees himself, slipping into the Haynes pack house, into the Alpha's bed to buy the alliance Talia needed. He sees himself, killing in the dark and burying the pack's mistakes, and the way they flinched away from his blue gaze. 

He sees himself, exhausted and slumped over research Talia had no time or patience for, planning and advising and protecting. 

Always protecting. 

He sees himself, and it makes his heart clench because as perfect as Stiles is--he wants different for this boy. 

Being the Left Hand is a long and lonely road. 

He inhales and takes in that stubbornly defiant scent, the way Stiles refuses, even now to look away, and lifts his hand. 

He can offer this. He cannot keep Stiles from the path he will walk, the path Peter walked--but he can give him him this, if he wants it. 

He hopes like hell that Stiles wants it. 

Lips hovering over his wrist, Peter looks at him, at the shock and want in his eyes before his scent goes sour and his heart sinks because he  _ knows _ what Stiles will answer, even before he asks. 

“Do you want the bite?”


End file.
